


Enough

by SapphireSmoke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, F/F, Guilt, Prison Sex, Romance, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSmoke/pseuds/SapphireSmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa had always drowned in the wake of her own inadequacies, never feeling good enough for what Bellatrix needed as the woman tried to shape her into something finally worth loving. Yet as her sister kissed her heated flesh in such passionate desperation, Narcissa began to realize that perhaps it wasn’t ever about making her good enough for Bellatrix, but tearing her down so that Bellatrix could finally feel worthy enough for <i>her.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta(s):** [girleater](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderWonderBats/pseuds/girleater)  
>  **A/N:** This fic was written as an anniversary gift for my girlfriend Aly, because she has been demanding I write more Cissatrix since the day I met her, lol. I love you bby, and I hope you like it :D

The air around her stunk of sorrow and death. Narcissa felt herself choke on the potent stench of despair as she covered her mouth with her hand, eyes downcast as screams and cries echoed through the darkened halls. The lights flickered above her in rapid succession, casting shadows upon the walls that danced and tormented its captives; its images igniting fear of the creatures that lingered in the dark. Narcissa could feel them, the dementors, sucking the hope from the air as they devoured the sanity of so many; it crawled inside of her like a sickness, rotting her to the core and leaving her to choke on nothing but her own fear and lack of self-worth.

“You have one hour,” the guard gruffed, his face marred from scars that distorted his appearance and likened him to a creature that had been dismembered and stitched together again. Narcissa shuddered as his icy gaze caught her own, and she wrapped her arms around her midsection in a protective gesture as she nodded her understanding.

One hour every year; that would be all that was allotted to them.

The heavy wooden door creaked loudly as it was opened, the sound echoing off the walls of the small, stone room that was tentatively entered. Through the dim light Narcissa could see the outline of the cell in the eastern most corner, a cell that provided just mere paces of space; meant only for times when loved ones came calling on the damned. Narcissa knew that it only saw the company of few, for so many in this place were lost to the world around them.

The door shut behind her, and the sound of metal scraping against stone caused Narcissa’s heart to lodge itself in the back of her throat as she slowly approached the angry woman confined within the wrought iron bars. A feral hiss slithered through the air to lay its torment within the cavern in her chest, and Narcissa’s breathing shllowed as dirt stained fingers wrapped around the cage, dark eyes piercing her soul as they sought to hollow out the memories that they had once shared together.

“ _Cissy._ ”

The word felt like an intrusion, a weapon meant to rip out everything that she was, for her sister always despised that there were things within Narcissa that were not born from _her._ A failed creation, Narcissa always reminded Bellatrix of the things she could not touch. Years were spent ripping her to shreds in order to possess and rebuild, seeking to lay claim on what arose from the ashes of her love-driven manipulation. And for many years Narcissa clung to her as though Bellatrix was more a mother than their own, seeking a sense of pride and love in her gaze that never fully came to pass. 

Narcissa was forever a work in progress, something not good enough or worth enough, until a man fell from the stars and showed her that which Bellatrix had tried to delve in the shadows of her own selfish desires. And _oh,_ how Bellatrix hated that, hated _him_ for it. Lucius took her crippled little doll and taught her to walk, how to think, how to _breathe_ without she who had molded the very essence of who Narcissa was. To her, Narcissa had become something else entirely, and now every time her sister looked at her, it seemed as though Bellatrix would like nothing more than to reach into her chest and rip out that which had made her whole.

But the problem was, should she ever do so, Bellatrix would find nothing but herself within her tightened grasp, for _knowing_ how to breathe on her own was not synonymous to her actually allowing herself to do so. Narcissa was a constant victim of familiarity and repetition, and despite Lucius’ best efforts, would always find herself falling into the comfort of what was, and never what could be; for in the end, she had found it to be the far easier path to take.

“You reek of his corruption,” Bellatrix spat at her through the bars, her eyes screaming the pain from her sister’s betrayal that would never find itself voiced. It had been two years since Narcissa had fallen from her sister’s good graces, and every day the irrational guilt she felt ate away at her heart just a little bit more. 

The chains that bound Bellatrix’s wrists clattered angrily against iron, and the length of her body found itself against its confines. “Have you finally come to bask in his victory, dear sister?”

Jealousy and contempt poured from every word, and a tightness invaded Narcissa’s chest at her sister’s belief that she was lost to her. “I came for you,” she breathed, needing Bellatrix to understand that her heart was capable of holding more than one within its depths. Bellatrix may have shredded her self-worth for so long, yet Narcissa’s body still ached terribly for the destruction that she had become accustomed to. It devoured her sanity and robbed the breath from her lungs as she looked upon the life, the twisted notion of _love_ that she had always clung to in her desperation to feel whole. “I miss you so terribly, Bella…”

“ _Lies!_ ” Bellatrix screamed, the sound broken and furious as her palm hit one of the bars. She maddeningly screeched as she reached for her, but Narcissa would not yet come. She merely stared at her, feeling her stomach lay heavy in her gut as tears stung the back of her eyes. Bellatrix’s labored breathing filled the otherwise silent room, her gaze cruel and unforgiving as she looked upon a possession once stolen.

A part of Narcissa still yearned to see it returned to her.

“After everything, how could you _ever_ believe that I—”

But her choked words fell to nothing in the wake of her sister’s fury. “You birthed living _proof_ of your betrayal, Cissy; allowed his disease to grow within you before you pushed it out of the cunt that _I_ own, and you dare even _breathe_ that filth in my direction? I should gut where you stand for having such audacity.”

Her words were like a vice around her neck, and Narcissa swallowed the ache it brought her. “I still love you, Bella. Despite what you may think, that has not changed. It will _never._ ” Her voice trembled with the rejection her sister sought to consume her with; it seeped into her pores, rushing hot through her veins and threatened to burn Narcissa alive from the inside out. And despite her better judgment, she willingly allowed the invasion as a tear fell slipped delicately down her cheek, for Narcissa knew that once her sister destroyed everything that she was, Bellatrix would fill her with all that she had been missing in her absence.

“Show me,” Bellatrix hissed, her eyes feral as she looked upon her sister’s form. “I want to see what that _waste_ of humanity has done to you, Narcissa. His fatal ownership has surely marred your skin, has it not? _Show it to me._ ”

Narcissa instinctively touched her abdomen, hesitation and uncertainty showing behind glassy eyes as her sister sneered.

“Do you deny me what I want?”

“No,” Narcissa breathed, because in the end, she wouldn’t dare. Her sister may be chained behind bars, but it was her words that had always cut far deeper than her touch. She could destroy Narcissa’s very reason for breathing should she choose to, for despite all that she had learned to do on her own, living without Bellatrix had been and never would be among them. She was a part of who she was, who she would always be, and should Bellatrix turn her back on her completely and rob Narcissa of the love she had had since birth, she feared it would tear the sanity straight from her mind and leave her empty and lifeless.

Because beneath Bellatrix’s cruel nature, lay a love so strong that it had once crippled Narcissa from the sheer force of it. A part of her ached to tear her sister open and immerse herself in it once more, to bathe in its destruction and allow it to consume everything that she was, but Bellatrix was not known to give something which she felt was undeserving. And Narcissa, after what she had done, had become the very definition of the word.

Praying for unwatchful eyes in a place known for its lack of care, Narcissa’s fingers trembled as she unbound her cloak. The material fell to the floor and Bellatrix’s eyes darkened, a hunger consuming her as she watched Narcissa adhere to her wishes almost as effortlessly as when they were children. Inhaling a shuddered breath as she tried to find her strength, nimble fingers began working the clasps on her dress until it was eventually shrugged from her body, pooling at her feet and leaving Narcissa feeling so terribly exposed to her sister’s predatory disposition. 

“All of it,” Bellatrix demanded, her tone becoming husked with desire as she looked upon her compliant little prize. “I want to see _all_ of you, Cissy…”

It was a request Narcissa had been expecting since her first piece of clothing was removed, and so she sought to bury the shame she felt with uncertainties that she chose to believe in; for if they were not truly alone, she would never allow herself to sate the demons in her sister’s mind. And Narcissa felt as though she needed to, as Bellatrix would be living most of her life so terribly alone now, and depriving her of the comfort of the only love she had ever known would be nothing more than heartless and cruel.

So she stripped away her confines, leaving herself bare to a gaze that hadn’t wanted to set eyes on her since the day Narcissa breathed out her admission of betrayal, and revealed to her sister that she had become pregnant with her husband’s child. 

“Come to me, love,” Bellatrix beckoned, and Narcissa’s feet moved without thought, her heart thumping rapidly beneath her ribcage as she crossed the space between them, aching for readmittance back into Bellatrix’s life. It was such a terribly dangerous thing, to leave herself so exposed to her sister whilst she was in this state. Bellatrix could tear her heart straight from her chest should she wish it, and it was perhaps that fear in itself which made the entire thing so nostalgically appealing. 

As taut nipples pressed against the cold bars, a shudder rolled down Narcissa’s spine. Bellatrix’s nails dragged across the skin of her abdomen, her lustful gaze darkening with hatred as the dim lighting in the room exposed Narcissa’s indiscretions. Eyes locked upon the marks she now bore. Bellatrix’s lip turned into a sneer as she deeply traced each line with her nail, causing Narcissa to wince at the sharp sting of pain it brought her.

“That child,” Bellatrix growled dangerously, “is an _abomination._ ”

“He’s everything I have ever wanted,” Narcissa whispered, unable to lie about her feelings towards her son. Her eyes closed in apology as her forehead gently rested against her sister’s confines. “And everything I was unable to get from _you._ ”

It was a mistake, to have gotten so close. In an instant her air supply was cut off by a firm hand to her throat, and Narcissa gagged beneath her sister’s hold, the woman’s chains banging loudly against the wrought iron bars that separated them. “I would have had you bear a hundred of my sons should I have been able to give them to you!” Bellatrix raged, her eyes alight with all the fury of her inadequacies. And it was perhaps that, above all else, that she despised; for no matter how much of the world Bellatrix could give her, she could never give Narcissa _that._

“I know,” Narcissa wheezed, for she would never doubt her sister’s craving to own everything that she was. And bearing a literal part of her would forever bind them together, which was why Bellatrix so despised Lucius’ creation; he had placed ownership where she could not, and should children have not been something that Narcissa had always craved since she was a little girl, she was sure her sister would have suffocated Draco the moment he was born.

The fact that she did not spoke _volumes_ of Bellatrix’s care for her, as disastrous a thought as that was.

Instead however, she had practically ignored Narcissa, immersing herself in her loyalty to the Dark Lord so she would no longer have to lay eyes on the woman who gave herself entirely to another. It tore Narcissa to shreds, self-loathing consuming her thoughts as a part of her began to hate herself for being given that which she so desired. And it wasn’t bloody fair, for Bellatrix to have shut her out in such a way, because it wasn’t as though her sister’s body was equipped to create life with her. It wasn’t her fault; _this_ wasn’t her fault!

“Please,” Narcissa gasped, her head beginning to fog as oxygen deprivation sought to make her legs buckle from under her. She grasped for her sister’s rags, hand fisting in the dirty material as tears leaked from her pleading eyes. “You know… how much I— I wanted… him…”

Bellatrix’s gaze, so deep with her hatred, was also laced with a profound sadness that cut through Narcissa’s very soul. She screamed out her fury then, the sound broken by emotion as she released Narcissa’s throat and tore into her abdomen instead. The blonde tried to scream, but all she could do was struggle for the breath that had finally been allotted her as she grasped at the deep cuts that now adorned her skin, the sticky warmth of her own blood covering her hand.

“You were supposed to be _mine,_ ” Bellatrix breathed, the weight of her sorrow crushing her anger to nothing as she dropped to her knees in defeat. The sight of it tore Narcissa’s heart apart, and a choked sob escaped her lips as her sister tentatively reached for her, as though a part of her was afraid to even touch that which had caused her so much pain. But Bellatrix grasped the blonde’s bloody hand in her own, gently guiding Narcissa’s body to press back up against the bars before she leaned in, her mouth covering the destruction she had caused in some vain attempt to piece her sister back together again.

Narcissa shuddered, her eyes falling closed as her sister’s tongue against the wound stung with a pain she had forgotten she craved. “I will always be yours,” she whispered, for it was a truth she couldn’t deny. “I don’t need to bear your child for you to own me, Bella, because _this,_ ” her stained hand touched her sister’s cheek then, leaving red smears against her ashen face, “is how we are forever bound. Don’t you understand that? There is a part of you already inside of me, that will _always_ be inside of me…”

“It’s not enough,” Bellatrix murmured against her skin, the words almost mad in their strained insistence. “It’s not enough, I wanted it to be _enough…_ ” Narcissa wanted to scream that it was, that no matter how much Lucius had given her, a part of her heart would always belong to her, but Bellatrix’s lips fell downward, the gravitational pull from the past they had shared bringing them together once more, and words were forgotten to Narcissa as her sister’s mouth covered her sex.

A soft gasp fell from her lips as Bellatrix drank the only life that she had to offer her, and Narcissa’s hand snaked through matted curls as she pulled the woman as close to her as the confines allowed her. The weight of her sister’s inadequacy weighed heavy in her heart, for she had merely thought that Bellatrix was so angry due to someone else possessing her property in such a way. And perhaps that was still part of it, but the woman between her thighs had always sought to give Narcissa the world in whatever way she could, that it seemed when someone else gave her that which Bellatrix feasibly could not, her failure ate her alive from the inside out. 

Narcissa had always drowned in the wake of her own inadequacies, never feeling good enough for what Bellatrix needed as the woman tried to shape her into something finally worth loving. Yet as her sister kissed her heated flesh in such passionate desperation, Narcissa began to realize that perhaps it wasn’t ever about making her good enough for Bellatrix, but tearing her down so that Bellatrix could finally feel worthy enough for _her._

And that thought caused a tear to slip down the contour of Narcissa’s cheek as she stifled a gasp, her hips twitching beneath the only kind of love Bellatrix knew how to give. “It is enough,” she breathed, hand curling possessively in her sister’s hair as she exhaled the only belief she had ever known. “ _You_ have always been enough…”

Fingers slid inside of her then, and Narcissa’s head pitched forward as her hand wrapped tightly around the bars that separated them. Dark eyes looked up at her, the emotion within them piercing every defense Narcissa ever built around her heart as Bellatrix hissed her fury against her skin, “I _hate_ him, Cissy. I want him to burn…”

“I know,” Narcissa gasped as she widened her stance, allowing her sister to pull things from her that Lucius never could. Bellatrix had spent years learning her body, and the pleasure she brought was effortless in its simplicity. In moments she could have her coming should she see it fit, but it was prolonged in the name of her sister’s craving for possession, her movements drawing sounds from Narcissa that she had previously thought lost to her. “But I’m still yours, Bella; I promise you, until the day I breathe my last breath, I will _always_ be yours…”

“ _Mine,_ ” Bellatrix reiterated fiercely, the word eliciting the only power it seemed she ever truly craved in life as her mouth covered the blood she had drawn from her. The marks etched upon her skin from her son’s birth had been overwritten by her sister’s fierce touch, and a part of Narcissa hoped that she scarred, for perhaps then Bellatrix would then finally realize that no part of her was ever untouchable. Not to her. “My blood, _my_ Cissy…”

“Yes,” she breathlessly moaned, hips jerking beneath her sister’s ministrations. Bellatrix’s fingers corkscrewed inside of her as she bit down on the junction of Narcissa’s hip, and the blonde stifled a scream as her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, feeling the pain of their love accented with her sister’s promises of forever. They had always been such a beautiful disaster, the two of them together, and Narcissa felt herself grasping to hold onto the only thing she had ever really known, the only constant in a life that was ever changing.

For without it, she feared she would not know who she was anymore.

The wake of her sister’s possession crippled her as the feeling shot through her body like fire, and though Bellatrix tried to grasp for her, the shackles that bound her wrists would not allow her enough reach, and Narcissa’s knees elicited a sickening crack against the stone floor as she came tumbling down. Pain shot through her but it was left unacknowledged, an emotion threatening to choke the breath from Narcissa’s lungs as her forehead laid rest against the bars and she began to cry.

“I can’t bear it,” she sobbed, feeling so terribly small as reality began to relentlessly tower over her. “I need you, I—”

“Shh, love,” Bellatrix hushed, her fingers closing around her palm before bringing it to her lips. “We will not be separated for long. The Dark Lord will come for me, I promise you, and then you and I will burn the world beneath our feet and fuck upon the ashes of all who dared keep us apart. I _swear_ it, Cissy.”

It was a promise Narcissa feared would never see fruition, and the weight of her pessimism sought to crush her heart to dust as she looked at the features which mirrored her own, sadness spilling from her eyes and scorching their painful fears over her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she breathed through her sorrow, “for desperately wanting something you could never give me.”

Bellatrix’s gaze caught her own, the intensity of her emotions being shown in her eyes, more than in her words. “You were supposed to be born for _me,_ Narcissa.”

“I _was—_ ”

“You weren’t,” Bellatrix countered, her tone biting and strained. “For if you were, you would have never wanted something I couldn’t give you. A part of me despises the very thought of you for that.”

Narcissa covered her mouth, her entire body quaking as a violent sob ripped through her at those words. “I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry—”

“No you’re not,” Bellatrix harshly reprimanded her, for she knew the truth. “You wanted the child, so bask in him like the proud little mother that you are, while I drown in insignificance against his pathetic existence.”

“No, Bella,” Narcissa pleaded, grasping for the affection that would forever only come in waves. “You’re not insignificant. You are enough, you are _everything…_ ”

“I’m not,” Bellatrix spat, her hand grasping for Narcissa’s chin as she forced her to look at her. Nails pierced flesh, and a purpose shone in her eyes as she breathed, “But I promise you, Cissy, I will tear the world to shreds seeking that which will make me so, for you have always been my enough, _my_ everything. And one day, my love, I will see the sentiment returned with truth upon your lips, or destroy _everything_ that you are with the hope of finally being free from you.”

It frightened the blonde terribly, to watch her sister weigh her own self-worth against whether or not she could be all that Narcissa found she needed. Bellatrix had and would always love her more fiercely than anything else in her life, and should she never find she measured up, she would surely drown in the madness her desperation caused her. Perhaps Narcissa had never been born for Bellatrix, but Bellatrix was certainly born for _her;_ so much that if she did not live up to her own expectations it would cause her sister to destroy the very thing she believed she breathed for, in the vain hope that perhaps it would be _her_ that would finally learn to do so on her own.

But it wouldn’t be enough, and Narcissa knew that. She would die knowing that, and in the end, her sister would lay her to rest along side of her, realizing that she had lost the only thing that sought to keep her feeling whole.

**\- FIN -**


End file.
